St Valentine's, it's that time of year when Christmas seems like a lifetime ago and summer seems like a lifetime away. February is always a HARD month to cope with.

Enamoured by amour? Sick of schmaltz? Or just indifferent to 'involvement'? Whatever your take on V-Day and your Facebook relationship status, there are plenty of alternative options for you in the city of London.

So what of the dishy daddy? Is it all about sex? In fairness you rarely hear the phrase and I've never had a woman sidle up to me in a bar and use the phrase "dishy daddy" as her opening line.

"Wait for the guy who wants to show you off to the world?". Exactly how does this work? I'm confused. Is he in to wife swapping? Husband swapping? That's just what I need, I've falling in love with a porno director and he wants to "show me off".

It was the day I dread every year and it was approaching fast. I could already predict how it would go. The sh*tty E-card form my dad, the wall of wishes from Facebook 'friends' ordering me to 'have a great day!', and the inevitable tears which catch up with me sooner or later. Maybe I'm being ungrateful but I f***ing hate my birthday.

I caught myself checking the time on my BlackBerry for the first fifth time in an hour. Yes he should have landed, I thought. Maybe not, yet. Should I wait another ten minutes and call, perhaps he is still stuck in the long queues at immigration... Uh! Give it another few minutes then I'll call... Why has he not called yet? Damn! I reached for the phone; then stopped myself again.

It was a scene the teenage me would have had in a nightmare; my boyfriend sprawled out on the sofa watching football, me frantically juggling crushing garlic in the kitchen behind him simultaneously timing a roasting butternut squash and cleaning tomato juice off the printed recipe page.